


can't bury anything without digging it up

by cloverfields



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Coming of Age, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-08-09 18:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16455470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverfields/pseuds/cloverfields
Summary: "I don’t know how you expect us all to hate Haseul when we don’t even know what she did to you."(or: Haseul and Jinsoul don't seem to get along at all really, and Jinsoul is totally, definitely straight)





	1. in media res

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: the members r all their real ages, apart from the grown ass adults who r like 18/19 here . it's a hs au u get it i don't need to explain. also sorry if u don't like bts but jk plays a kinda important role hehe (loonarmys.......)
> 
> uhhh potential trigger warnings not just for this chapter but the whole fic are: internalised homophobia, underage drinking/drugs .. also that implied sexual content might become mild sexual content ..just .. we will see
> 
> ANYWHO i've been meaning to write this 4 ages bc i'm the world's biggest jinseulnator and they deserve a teen angst love story because don't we all??
> 
> SIDE SHIPS !! 2jin chuuves hyewon and lipseul . bc i am weak
> 
> if u want the playlist that i made especially for this then [here u go](https://open.spotify.com/user/niamhxcx/playlist/7rrgReowyS50QU5s17izR4?si=6y-1gDHXRemx4Eq2RZTthA)

“Are you coming in?” 

“No. I’m gonna throw up and die.” 

Jinsoul is a popular girl. Not to brag, but she’d been invited to her fair share of parties, including _Vivi’s Vivacious House of Foam_ which got the host grounded with a month’s worth of community service for almost drowning her neighbours. She is most definitely not one to skip out on a good time, but _this_ , whatever Jungeun is dragging her into, is not a good time. 

“Will you quit being a baby? What do you think she’s gonna do, eat you?” 

Jinsoul stares at her hands, silently perched on the hood of Jungeun’s car. She traces the fine white lines of her own initials scratched into the red paint and sighs because sometimes having a best friend is more trouble than it's worth. And now, Jungeun’s stupid little puppy eyes are boring into the side of her skull and if she doesn’t make a move to get up soon, she thinks her friend might start barking, or like, humping her leg or something. 

Jungeun yelps when Jinsoul stands up and says, “C’mon, let’s get this over with,” and makes a move to go inside (and a mental note to demand a favour from Jungeun when they get home). They link arms, and before they can even reach the front door at the end of the path, it swings open and Jinsoul wonders what godly power on the other side managed to produce such a force- 

“Oh my gosh Sooyoung look it’s Jungeun and Jinsoul oh my gosh guys hi oh wow you guys look great Jinsoul I love the h-” 

When Jinsoul first got to know Jiwoo, she hated her guts. So much so, that every time she spoke Jinsoul would tune out and mentally count how many seconds it took for her to stop talking. Later, she changed it to how many minutes it took because apparently the better you get to know Jiwoo the more she talks to you about inane things that you really don’t care about; even later, Jinsoul had to scrap the game because Sooyoung found out and threatened to not only beat her but tell everyone about her pre-pubescent collection. She loves Jiwoo now, but there’s no harm in very occasionally ignoring her. 

When she realises Jiwoo has stopped, Jinsoul mumbles out a “Hey,” and then, “Wait, why are you here?” 

“Well, as you know, Sooyoung, my girlfriend – oh gosh can you believe it’s almost our six-month anniversary? I mean, where has the time gone, right? Obviously, I have her present planned out but I feel like it’s not enough, you know? Do you think I shou-” 

“Jiwoo.” 

“Right! Anyways, Sooyoung is friends with Kahei, I mean, Vivi, who’s like best buds with Haseul so she got an invite and naturally I was her plus one! Ah, don’t you just love Sooyoung? Anyways, why are you here? Jinsoul, don’t you like, hate-” 

For the first time since Jiwoo opened the door, Jungeun speaks, “I have classes with Haseul. Do you know where she is?” 

Jinsoul’s stomach flips at the name. She runs her fingers along the hem of her shorts and tries not to think, frowning and willing down the anxiety groaning in her chest. Jinsoul had always imagined her nerves as an octopus in her stomach, spreading and prodding and turning her blood into thick, black ink; she wants to pry open her ribs and make sure there’s nothing swimming around in there. 

She didn’t catch Jiwoo’s answer but it’s clear that Jungeun is satisfied; she smiles, turns, and Jinsoul can’t quite believe her ears when she says, “I’m just gonna speak to Haseul and then I’ll be right back, ‘kay?” And Jinsoul is so preoccupied with her anxiety octopus and trying not to hyperventilate that she can’t even protest. 

The door shuts behind them and Jungeun is running off somewhere upstairs and Jiwoo is shouting at her over the music and Jinsoul thinks it’s all a bit too much. She distracts Jiwoo by pointing her in the direction of Sooyoung (“That’s my girlfriend!” she yells, clinging onto Sooyoung like a koala, and even Jinsoul’s anxiety-ridden brain wants to go _awww_ ) and makes off for the kitchen in search of a drink and some quiet. The hallways in Haseul’s house are narrower than she remembers; someone pushes her a little too hard and Jinsoul is stumbling, until a firm hand lands on her arm, paired with a “Oh jeez, are you good?” 

And so, Jinsoul is sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of something awful in her hand and Jungkook’s tinkling laughter in her ears. It’s her fourth glass of something awful now, and her conversation with cherry boy (“I’m gonna call you cherry boy. ‘Cuz your hair – it's red. Like, y’know, cherries.”) has developed into a passionate debate about who the current saviour of pop music is. And, through the alcohol, as Jungkook says something about the absolute power that Ariana ft. Charli XCX would have, Jinsoul supposes that he’s at least semi-attractive. He’s good looking, obviously, but if she tries hard enough, if she really squints through the haze of smoke and spilled beer, he’s attractive. A potential boyfriend, even. And now Jinsoul knows it’s the alcohol because she’s known the boy for ten minutes and she’s imagining their future together, with tiny little cherry headed twins joined by a stem. She would be happy with Jungkook, she imagines. But she can’t reach him. He’s all the way at the other side of the kitchen table. 

Jungkook is gaping at her now and she worries she said some of that out loud, before she feels something uncomfortable spreading across her chest. Someone is apologising in her ear as Jinsoul presses a hand to her shirt to feel a very fresh, very wet beer stain, and she suddenly becomes disgustingly aware of how gross alcohol smells and decides never to drink again. Kind, sweet Jungkook offers to help but her drunken brain is screaming at her to get up and go somewhere, away from stupid boys and spilled drinks, so she pushes him back and finds herself in an empty hallway that she recognises vaguely as the top floor of Haseul’s house. 

There’s a door at the end. She knows it’s Haseul’s and knows she wants to go inside, find a clean shirt and get out of this house. Like Jungkook, the door seems so far – so far away, at the other side of the kitchen table. Jinsoul approaches it and it only seems to get further away; further and further until the walls close in on her and she’s Alice, too big for this tiny house. She remembers when she would read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland with Haseul and feels sick. The door is closer now. She just wants a clean shirt. She’s so drunk. 

When Jinsoul opens the door, it takes her a moment to process what she’s seeing. All she wanted was a shirt. She stares, just for a moment, and the anxiety octopus is back except this time it brings its ocean with it and Jinsoul is the captain of a sinking ship in the middle of a storm. She considers leaving and pretending she saw nothing, but the alcohol in her brain wants chaos.

“Jungeun, what the fuck are you doing?” 

Too many things happen at once. There’s a clatter, Jungeun pushes Haseul off her, who screams at Jungeun, who screams at Haseul, who screams at Jinsoul to get out, who gets out. Jinsoul’s head and heart are both on fire, and so is something else, but she’s too drunk to understand what. She pushes her back against the wall to ground herself; the wall feels real. 

The yelling from inside Haseul’s bedroom is momentarily louder as the door swings open and suddenly Haseul is there and the door is shut again. 

She’s so pretty. 

“Jungeun’s finding a shirt. She’ll be out in a moment.” 

Haseul looks at the ceiling and the floor and anywhere that isn’t Jinsoul, but Jinsoul looks right at her. She hates her. 

She’s so pretty – but such a bitch. 

Haseul’s hair is lighter since the last time she saw her (two days ago in the school cafeteria) and her cheeks are flushed (probably on account of the sex, Jinsoul figures) like two pretty, pink rose petals. Jinsoul can’t believe how much she hates her in that moment. 

“Do you deliberately go out of your way to fuck up my life?” 

Jinsoul surprises herself, but Haseul even more so. She opens her mouth, closes it. Like a fish, Jinsoul thinks, which is amusing for a few seconds and she laughs out loud. 

Haseul frowns. “You can’t actually be serious.” 

“You fucked my best friend,” is all that Jinsoul can manage and Haseul looks at her so incredulously that she must’ve stuttered or something; Haseul is _looking_ at her and now she knows she’s gonna throw up. “I have to go. I gotta go. Jungeun – tell Jungeun I’m downstairs. Outside.” Part of her is annoyed that Haseul didn’t stop her. 

Jinsoul is on the porch and wishes her exit was a little more graceful, a little more Cinderella fleeing the ball, but she’d heard _watch it!_ one too many times. Plus, she isn’t wearing a floaty dress, has beer on her shirt and she’s pretty sure Sooyoung has her hand up Jiwoo’s skirt like two metres away. She drags her fingertips across the grass and thinks about anything other than Jungeun and Haseul and Jiwoo and Sooyoung and- 

“Are you alright?” Jungkook plonks down beside Jinsoul, who shifts to create a gap between them. There are matching tear tracks running down each cheek and she’s leaving a party before 11pm. Boys ask stupid questions. 

“Look, you seem nice, but I’m really not in the mood to be hit on right now,” Jinsoul explains, fiddling with her shoelaces. 

Jungkook stares blankly, thinking, and then laughs, and says quietly, “What the fuck?” Jinsoul shifts again because, clearly, this is not her future husband she’s dealing with but an entitled little- 

“You realise I’m gay, right? Like, it’s important to me that you realise that.” 

It’s Jinsoul’s turn to stare blankly before letting out a breath that sounds like _oh my fucking god_ as her head drops into her palms. “Apparently everyone’s gay today.” She pauses. “Sorry. That sounded homophobic.” 

"That’s okay. We did talk about Charli XCX together though, so...” 

“I didn’t wanna stereotype.” 

“That’s nice of you. Your friend’s coming.” 

There’s a weight on Jinsoul’s shoulder; it’s Jungeun, not naked, looking vaguely uncomfortable. Jinsoul removes her hand, hugs Jungkook and leads the way to the car, her friend on her heel. 

The car ride is painful. Jungeun’s incessant tapping on the steering wheel doesn’t help. The groan of the old engine is the only thing piercing the silence and every time Jungeun’s shitty car stutters and stalls at a junction Jinsoul wants to jump out and not look back. She inspects the interior to distract her wandering mind; watches the fluffy dice (Seriously? Fluffy dice?) hanging from the mirror dangle back and forth, reads each and every sticker on the glove compartment once, and then again for good measure (a personal favourite is _BABY UP IN THIS BITCH_ which they were both too embarrassed to actually stick on the rear window), until she has nothing left to look at except Jungeun herself, who she notices has a faint red mark just under her chin; Jinsoul doesn’t know if it’s lipstick or a developing hickey or what, but decides she’s bored of silence. 

“I mean, really Jungeun? Her?” 

Jungeun pulls to a stop and swivels in her seat, glaring, and starts, “You can’t be mad I didn’t tell y-” 

“I don’t care! I don’t care how gay you are! I care that you’re fucking her. Haseul! Of all people.” Jinsoul digs her fingernails into the barely cushioned seat because she’s not about to swing at her best friend, despite how much she might want to. She’s breathing heavily and Jungeun isn’t saying anything, so she decides her time here is done. “I wanna get out. Let me out of the car.” 

“I don’t know how you expect us all to hate Haseul when we don’t even know what she did to you.” 

“I don’t care. Let me out.” 

There’s a click and Jinsoul is out, slamming the door behind her and stomping as obnoxiously as possible across the road, throwing a glance back at the car for effect. 

Winding the window down and pulling up next to her, Jungeun groans, “You’re not really gonna walk all the way home out of spite, right? Really, Jinsoul?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“You’re so immature Jinsoul!” 

“Suck my _fucking_ dick Jungeun!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok . i promise this isn't a lipsoul/lipseul fic ok jinseul will like each other one day i'm sure... also sorry for throwing my own interests into this (charli xcx) but i'm a lesbian and therefore physically incapable of going 5 minutes without debating pop music
> 
> thank u very much for reading it means a lot!! i'm gonna try to update fairly regularly (weekly?? who knows) but i can't promise anything bc school's a bitch. anywho see u all next time !
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dykezy)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/aitai-tai)
> 
> :]


	2. rosy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG APOLOGY for how late this is but life is really kicking me in the shins lately.... i hope jinsoul being a little whiny baby makes up for it . 
> 
> warning for underage drug use in this chapter; olivia hye gets fucking lit

Jinsoul thinks Haseul is, quite possibly, the prettiest girl in the whole world, and she hates her for it. She glares, across the bustle of the school cafeteria, and wonders what such an annoying person did to earn herself such a nice face. Haseul laughs at someone’s joke, strawberry lips spread into a grin; she flicks her hair back and exposes her neck, adorned with two thin, silver chains that hung low on her chest. Jinsoul follows them down and traces the shadows of her collarbones. 

Sooyoung reaches out and flicks her forehead. “Stop staring. It’s really obvious.” 

Jinsoul pulls her gaze away and scowls. She thinks she has every right to stare, and if Haseul catches her then so be it (although she’d be lying if she said the other girl didn’t intimidate her just a little bit). 

She supposed Haseul had a sort of reputation in school. She remembers vividly when Haseul, quiet and reserved and relatively unknown, received six weeks' worth of detention after – accidentally – setting the football field alight. There’d been a number of rumours circulating, each with a different version of events; she was smoking weed (believable but boring), she’d been lighting a barbeque at lunch and it got out of hand (interesting, but she’d never seen Haseul eat anything that wasn’t from the confectionary section of the supermarket), and, Jinsoul’s personal favourite, that she was involved in some cultish activities such as burning incense to summon the dead, and the like.

And so, despite keeping the same small group of close friends, Haseul had gained herself a following of sorts; some had never spoken to her, some hadn’t even seen her, but they knew of her. It irks Jinsoul slightly, because there’s really nothing special about Haseul outside of her surprisingly rebellious attitude, as far as she knows. _It doesn’t matter,_ she thinks, because they don’t talk anymore anyways.

Shoving a forkful of something probably unappetising into her mouth, Sooyoung asks, “Where’s Jungeun today?”

Jinsoul wants to scream. She nods her head vaguely in any direction, “Sitting over there somewhere. She’s not really in the mood to speak to me.” 

Jiwoo perks up from beside her girlfriend and grins, and Jinsoul is already tired of whatever she’s about to say. Twirling a strand of wavy, brown hair between her fingertips, Jiwoo starts, “Y’know this is all very dramatic – it's like a fairy tale.”

“Right.” Jinsoul hopes she’ll stop here. She doesn’t.

“It’s like – okay. Like, we’re the protagonists, obviously. Jinsoul, you’re the valiant hero (“Heroine,” Sooyoung interjects, but is quickly shushed). I am the sidekick, your best friend till death do us part, your number one supporter always! Sooyoung you can be my love interest because you’re hot and dark and brooding.” Jiwoo is, at this point, becoming more and more enthusiastic, hands waving wildly. 

“Haseul is like, your mortal enemy. Obviously. Because she’s scary, but like, sorry Sooyoung, but she’s like hot too-” 

“No, she’s not,” Sooyoung and Jinsoul both protest, and Jiwoo smiles apologetically.

“Well, anyways, Jungeun is like - I don’t know, they don’t really have estranged best friends in fairy tales. She can be, like, a neutral third party. I don’t know, I need to work on that one.”  
She sighs, slams her hands on the table a little too hard, and Jinsoul presumes that in Jiwoo-speak this means she’s finished. Sooyoung starts to speak, and Jinsoul turns in her chair to look at Haseul again; what she sees is Haseul sitting, smiling up at a blushing, rambling Jungeun. She reaches out to rub Jungeun’s arm, and Jinsoul watches her thumb move back and forth, painfully slow. 

With a screech, Jinsoul pushes her chair back and clambers out, heart racing. Sooyoung and Jiwoo look up expectantly. Jinsoul, cheeks flushed, slides her chair under the table with a clatter; it’s loud and disruptive and she hopes Jungeun is looking. Or Haseul. “Stories are dumb, anyways,” she says, suddenly out of breath. “I’m going to class. See you tomorrow.”

 

 

Jinsoul hates Chaewon’s bedroom; it’s walls are painted an unpleasant cream, and her décor is in every possible shade of pink. Everything here is magenta, rose, peach and coral and it makes her uncomfortable. Jinsoul has never been a pink girl, never dreamed with her peers when they were younger about a pink car and pink nails and a big, pink wedding ring. She didn’t know Chaewon then, but she imagined she was one of those girls. 

It amazes her, then, that Hyejoo – who Jiwoo describes as ‘the gothest girl I’ve ever seen!’ – manages to spend so much time here. Jinsoul sits upright on Chaewon’s bed and Hyejoo stands by the window, leaning against a dressing table draped in necklaces of silver and silk scarves. She’s flicking her lighter incessantly, clicks resonating in the silence of her friend’s bedroom, but the flame won’t come. Hyejoo’s joint remains trapped and unlit between her lips. 

The door swings open and shut and Chaewon is here, already shouting and wailing (Jinsoul believes that, in another life, Chaewon was Jiwoo’s quick-tempered twin sister). She spares a glance at Jinsoul and offers her a grunt in greeting before moving straight to the other girl. Hyejoo, as if on command, hops up onto the window sill so Chaewon can place herself comfortably in her lap. Their knees knock together and Jinsoul feels out of place, like she’s seeing something she shouldn’t be.

“Did you know Jungeun isn’t speaking to me?” Jinsoul says. Chaewon raises and eyebrow and Hyejoo seems unphased, focusing only on her lighter. 

“What'd you do this time?” 

Jinsoul protests, but Chaewon continues, “Oh come on, Jinsoul. You and I both know Jungeun’s obsessed with you and the only reason she’d avoid you is if you did something stupid, which wouldn’t be at all out of character. So spill.” 

Hyejoo giggles without looking up. Her shin bounces against Chaewon’s and Jinsoul is feeling increasingly awkward. “I didn’t really do anything,” she starts, Chaewon looking unconvinced, “She was just – well she’s been hanging around with Haseul, and it annoyed me.”

Chaewon sighs melodramatically. She rests her head in her hands and narrows her eyes at Jinsoul, who shuffles backwards – not that she’s scared or anything. Chaewon motions for her to continue. 

“It’s just – I've told her a million times that I don’t like Haseul, and I just figured, since she’s meant to be my _best friend,_ that she would listen, and not run off to go, um, hang out with her. I think I have every right to be angry at her. And Haseul’s being annoying – she was in the cafeteria today talking to Jungeun and I was like, really? Can’t you be away from each other for two minutes? She just sits there looking so smug, because she knows she’s pretty, and kinda popular, and she’s obviously very pleased to have pissed me off. As if I care about what she thinks of me-” 

Jinsoul stops when Chaewon groans loudly, leaning her head back on Hyejoo’s chest (she forgot that Hyejoo was also there to listen to her complain, and suddenly feels very pathetic, because Hyejoo is scary as hell).

Jumping down from the window sill with a thud (Hyejoo frowns), Chaewon runs her hands through her hair. It’s golden and falls in flawless waves, completed with tiny butterfly clips that shimmer in the dim lamplight. She stands in front of Jinsoul and crosses her arms. “Y’know, Jinsoul, for someone who’s angry at Jungeun, you sure are talking about Haseul a lot.” 

Jinsoul rolls her eyes and lies back on the bed. The duvet is soft and covered in little strawberries, and she tries not to think about Haseul’s smile. “I just hate her. I really do.” 

“We know,” Hyejoo says. Jinsoul isn’t sure if she’s mocking her or comforting her. “Chaewon, you want some?” Her lighter finally works, and she blows out a thin plume of smoke. 

Jinsoul watches Chaewon walk over and hop back onto Hyejoo’s lap. She looks away. She presses the back of her hand against her forehead as the room is steadily filled with smoke. Hyejoo giggles in response to something Chaewon says – Jinsoul pushes her head back further into the pillow until she can’t hear anything anymore. 

She closes her eyes and thinks about everything except the strawberries printed on Chaewon’s bed sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks 4 reading !! sorry it's kinda short, next chap will be longer + sooner don't worry. see u next time!
> 
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> 
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	3. the dead

**From: jungeun <3**

**To: jinsoul**

Hi soul can we pls talk 

 

 **From: jinsoul**

**To: jungeun <3**

no 

 

 **From: jungeun <3**

**To: jinsoul**

Fine lmao 

 

Jinsoul places her phone on the desk, face down. It buzzes again but she doesn’t bother checking it. 

“Who was that?” Jungkook asks. He’s sitting at her bedroom window, drawing little stick figures holding hands through the condensation on the glass. Jinsoul had decided on a whim to invite him over after school – he was nice, for a guy, and wouldn’t bug her with incessant personal questions like everyone else seemed to enjoy doing (“Where’s Jungeun?” Hyunjin had asked her this morning, when she hadn’t turned up to Biology. She thought of Haseul and Jungeun talking in the cafeteria, Haseul rubbing her arm with her thumb, and imagined them skipping class together, running off to God knows where. Jungeun would never normally break the rules like that. Jinsoul’s hands trembled for the next ten minutes until Jungeun ran into class, ears red and apologising frantically for sleeping in). 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

She resumes spinning around on her computer chair like a child, staring at the ceiling of her lowly lit bedroom. There’s a small crack in the paint and she imagines it spreading and growing into a big cobweb until the roof of her house collapses in on her. 

Jungkook shrugs and says nothing. 

“How’s school?” Jinsoul asks, desperate to change the topic of conversation. It seems she’s found a way out, because the boy turns as red as his hair and begins playing with his fingers. She grins - “C’mon, spill.” 

He sighs and turns to face her. “It’s - well, it’s fine. But we’ve started this project in Music Studies, like a song writing thing, and the teacher put us into pairs. And I got paired with this – guy, and he’s kinda hot, and – well.” 

“Well?” 

“Well I have a little bit of a thing for him.” 

Jinsoul laughs as the boy’s cheeks flush red like his hair. “That’s cute,” she says. She spins round and round whilst Jungkook grumbles, embarrassed, and she thinks of love, and boys, and girls. 

 

 

It’s a cold day and Jinsoul is meandering around the school grounds between classes; it’s snowing lightly, the first snow of the year, and the green grass is coated white. Jinsoul has always liked the peace of snow – it shrouds the world in silence. She watches, flakes, illumined in the morning sunlight, falling faintly to her feet. She wears bright red fingerless gloves, and a woollen hat, her hair peeking out from underneath and curling up in the dewy air. It is so quiet, deathly so, and for a moment Jinsoul wonders if she’s the only life on earth. 

“Jinsoul!” 

Jinsoul sighs. Everything is momentary. 

She turns, and sees Haseul. Her stomach flips and she clutches at her sleeves, anything to keep her grounded. Haseul’s breaths come out in little clouds and Jinsoul feels like her own breath is caught in her throat. She squeezes her eyes shut, dizzy, wishing to be anywhere else, anywhere but here, and when she opens them again everything is blurry but she knows Haseul is standing in front of her now, glaring, probably. It’s still snowing but Jinsoul feels hot, so hot, like if the other girl comes any closer she’ll catch on fire. She says something, but her heart is burning so loudly she can’t hear what it is. 

“Jinsoul.” Haseul rests a hand on her arm and Jinsoul recoils, leaving the hand hovering in the air between them. 

“Please. Don’t touch me. What do you want? Just...what do you want?” She feels so stupid, unable to put a sentence together properly. It’s embarrassing, especially when Haseul looks so calm. She glows somewhat in the chill, her small nose tinted pink. Her hair is short, recently cut, and is held neatly behind her ear with just a strand spilling across the side of her face. In another life, Jinsoul reaches over and tucks it back. 

Haseul frowns and still looks pretty. She opens her mouth, closes it, looks around, looks back at Jinsoul. “Actually, I just wanted to talk. About you and Jungeun – she's pretty shaken up y’know.” 

Jinsoul stares at her, looking for a sign of insincerity, and laughs when she can’t find one. “Well. Ha! So she wants to be my friend...and sends her fuck buddy to help her out, that’s great. Just great.” Her mouth is quivering with faked confidence. 

Haseul blushes brightly. “That’s not – no. I’m just saying-” 

“No!” She yells. Jinsoul surprises herself but supposes it’s the lifetime of pent up emotion. She imagines she’s being unreasonable but there’s a disconnect between her voice and her mind and she’ll say anything to make Haseul go away. “I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t want to _see_ you. Ever again. And I don’t want to see Jungeun either, so just please. _Please_. Leave me alone.” 

She looks down at her feet, watching the snow settle, layer upon layer. Haseul’s boots shuffle, indecisive, before she walks away with a sigh. Jinsoul waits a moment until the dead silence of winter returns and she looks up, Haseul far enough away that she’s a hazy figure in the distance. She lets out a full body sob, shaking as she sinks into the snow. Her uniform is wet and ruined. Her heartbeat is still irregular and she wonders if it has always been this way. 

 

 

It’s late and the snow has become pouring rain. Jinsoul is on her way home, soaking, having foolishly offered her umbrella up to Hyunjin who needed to look presentable for a study date with Heejin, for some reason (When Jinsoul had asked why she needed the umbrella so badly, Hyunjin had rolled her eyes and replied “Because! Because – well Heejin always looks nice. And I don’t want to give off a bad impression of myself, and – just because! Just give me it Jinsoul.”). She stops walking, water trickling over her cheeks and dripping from the tips of her hair. The warm glow from the video store shines on her face, inviting. 

Jinsoul shuts the door behind her and shakes her head like a puppy. She grimaces at the wet she’s trailed inside but the cashier has her face in a magazine, uncaring, not looking up as Jinsoul loudly scrapes her shoes against the doormat to dry them. 

The video store is something of an enigma in Jinsoul’s small town. For starters, it’s existence as a video store is bewilderingly anachronistic; it sells VHS, for God’s sake. It’s empty most of the time, save for a few uninterested workers constantly shuffling and reshuffling the shelves into alphabetical order by genre and franchise. The décor consists of dangerously low hanging neon signs and skewed film posters plastered on top of each other on every wall – a torn _The Children’s Hour_ covers a faded _A Streetcar Named Desire_ , next to a peeling poster for _Tea and Sympathy_. There’s a pinboard of flyers in the corner, advertising a bi-weekly film club and babysitting jobs, as well as a scrap piece of paper featuring the tagline _‘PLEASE FIND MY CAT!!!! XXX-XXXX'_ with a poorly done drawing of said cat. It’s black with grey spots. 

Jinsoul wanders down the aisles of DVDs, browsing the new releases as the rain patters down harder outside. She stops at the section labelled ‘Rom-Coms,’ looking at the pretty girls and handsome boys holding hands, kissing, laughing. There’s something about the whole thing that’s disingenuous; Jinsoul had never got the rom-com thing, it felt so weird and unrelatable. She supposes she just isn’t a fan of the mushy stuff. A boy on one of the covers has wine red hair, and she smiles thinking of Jungkook and his mystery crush. A girl on another cover has a brown bob and twinkling eyes and Jinsoul keeps walking, feeling a little nauseous. 

She fiddles with the zipper on her jacket as she dawdles past horror, sci-fi, drama, thriller, horror again until she’s dizzied with genres. The rain is even heavier now, the street outside an oil painting of grey streaks and puddles. A truck rumbles past and splashes water across the store-front. The cashier jumps. 

Jinsoul glances over and smiles sympathetically, the girl still buried in her magazine. “Nice day, right?” 

The girl looks up and Jinsoul goes pale. 

“Nice day,” Haseul says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so it's been almost 3 months since i last updated let's just . ignore that... no for real im incredibly sorry about that, but unfortunately life gets a bit shit sometimes and i guess i had to put this on hold. but hopefully from here on out i'll be able to update more regularly !! and look this chapter actually has some form of jinseul interaction who'd have thought it !
> 
> anyways hope u enjoyed my gratuitous references to james joyce and gay films, see u soon and as always thanks so much for reading (and waiting!)
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/dykezy)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/aitai-tai)


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